Variations Of Hope
by Wicked Wonder
Summary: Though we may change, our love is constant.


Boy Meets World  
"Variations of Hope"  
Summary: Though we may change, our love stays constant.  
Rating: K (mildly disturbing themes)  
Disclaimer: Still not mine. This is why.  
Feedback: I wouldn't encourage me, but... Thanks to Sugar, who holds my hand and makes my spelling gooder. And because really, I shouldn't be allowed to write when I'm feeling melancholy.

Every day, he turns his key in the lock and sets down his briefcase by the door. He has to forcibly tell himself not to shout "Honey, I'm home" but the footsteps sound and he smiles and shouts anyway, It's what he's expected to do.  
"You're home!" rings out happily. He glances at the beloved face- wide eyes, wide grin (good, no hidden things to discover later)- and takes in the clean clothes and house. His smile slips as he asks," What did you eat?"  
"My favorite! Come see." A hand is offered and he takes it as they make their way into the kitchen, " I had, um, had..."  
He lets go of the hand. "Show me?" he asks gently.  
The head dips briefly as a jar of peanut butter is selected. "This!"  
"Peanut butter?"  
"Yeah, peanut butter!" The beginnings of frustration are erased, and the sunny smile blooms as if had never left. "You're so smart, Eric."  
It's funny how the words he's always wanted to hear now twist him up inside.

He doesn't remember the accident at all. The doctors told him afterward that he had bruising around his ribs, consistent with Jack's broken right arm. The doctors said that Jack must've thrown out his arm to shield Eric. When they told him that, he had accepted the news quietly and calmly and then had went home and screamed, just once. Then he had returned to the hospital- Jack had still been under.  
The other driver had apologized. She was just a scared kid, with a license a month old. One of her friends had been killed, but Jack had woken up that day, just enough to open his eyes and show recognition of his name. So Eric was ready to forgive anyone.  
It wasn't obvious until later that there was something wrong. When Jack hit the steering wheel, he had passed but regained consciousness a few minutes later. Jack had called 911 (on the tape, he had told the operator that 'my partner's in shock') and had remained up until the ambulance arrived. Eric has a sense memory of Jack getting him into the ambulance, telling him that he'll be fine, but he's not sure if that's even true. The doctors had put Jack under, to see if he could heal himself. and then changed their minds and tried to bring him out of it to no avail. Two months later, when Jack had shown signs of coming out of it, the doctors hand been cautiously optimistic. Now, they say things are much better than expected, which makes Eric wonder how bad did they expect Jack to be.  
Really, you wouldn't be able to tell unless you knew Jack. Before. He moves a little slower (the doctors say it takes a little longer for his muscles to receive messages from his brain) and forgets words. Mostly, though, it's his personality. He's so... childlike now, and it's kinda scary. He trusts everyone, from the random people in the street to the commercials on TV. (Eric still remembers the time he caught Jack trying to order one of those roterisseries from the infomercial. "But you set it and forget it, Eric!" Jack had protested when Eric had hung up the phone.) He can't be trusted with appliances or sharp knives, so Eric has everything locked down. Jack wanders off sometimes, so Eric went out and bought those deadbolts that lock with a key from both sides, and prays that nothing will happen, like a fire, that Jack will need to go outside for.  
Jack tugs at Eric's sleeve. Jack forgets sometimes that he's every bit as tall as Eric, and it shows in little gestures like this. "Are you sad?" he asks.  
"No baby, just thinking." Eric pastes a smile on his face and tries to shake off his dark thoughts. Jack picks up on his moods with uncanny accuracy, and Eric doesn't like to upset him. "What did you want for dinner?"  
Jack's hazel eyes narrow. "Not hungry."  
Eric sighs inwardly. "You must be hungry if all you had is peanut butter."  
Jack shakes his head stubbornly. "I'm tired."  
"You are?" Eric puts his hand on Jack's forehead. "Do you feel hot?"  
Jack nods. "My head hurts."  
That explains it, Eric thinks. He gets Jack to the bedroom with calm efficiency. Jack gets really bad headaches, something the doctors say is left over from the accident. They make him nauseous and tired, and elevate his temperature. Eric gets out the medicine and gives Jack a dose before turning out the light. He checks the nightlight before stepping out. "Try to sleep, okay?"  
"Wait!" Jack sounds almost frantic. "Will you stay with me?"  
Eric closes the door and toes off his shoes. "Sure. Scoot over."  
Jack shifts and Eric climbs onto the bed. Jack rolls until he's spooning Eric. "Sleep now," he says, voice already slurred.  
"'Kay." Eric waits until Jack's breathing is even and deep, and then slowly gets out of bed. He has some work to do and now is the safest time to get it done.  
Later, he slips back in bed. Jack rolls as if he had been waiting. "Mm, missed you," he murmurs, and it sounds so sleepy and sexy that Eric lets himself pretend, just for a moment.  
"Missed you too," he answers, and before he can stop himself, kisses Jack softly. Jack returns his kiss ardently, surprising Eric. Just last week, kissing on television seemed utterly disgusting.  
"Don't go again," Jack says breathlessly before kissing Eric again. "Stay with me."  
"I won't," Eric promises. "I'll be here."

Special thanks to the Funk Brothers and Chicago, who kept me from getting too lost in here. Surprisingly, I have an idea for a sequel, but I don't know.


End file.
